The Cassava Root and the Road Home to Mother

A cold wind sweeps across the rural fields, carrying the biting chill of year-end days. On a dusty red-earth road, a young man drags his heavy steps forward. Thirty years ago, when the country faced great hardships, traveling without a single coin in one’s pocket was quite common. But today, hunger and thirst are eroding his willpower. His lips are cracked, his face pale, and his limbs tremble with exhaustion.

He spots a thatched-roof house by the roadside, with smoke rising gently from its kitchen. With fragile hope, he stops and asks in a hoarse voice, "Please, elder, may I have a sip of water to ease my thirst?"

The homeowner, an elderly woman with kind eyes, sees his weary state. She does not merely offer water; she intuitively recognizes the hunger tormenting this stranger. Hurrying into the kitchen, she brings out a hot boiled cassava root and a ripe banana grown on the tree. "Eat this for now to warm your belly," she says softly.

In that moment, time seems to stand still. The young man grabs the cassava and takes a quick bite. Within two or three seconds, both the cassava and the banana disappear. Extreme hunger prevents him from savoring the taste; he only feels the sudden fullness spreading through his body. Seeing that the old woman has nothing more to give, he bows in gratitude and continues his journey. Yet, the image of her and that cassava root is etched deeply into his mind. For the rest of his life, whenever he recalls that meal that saved him from starvation, an indescribable sense of gratitude rises in his heart. He tells himself, "Without that piece of cassava, I might not have had the strength to walk all the way home."

However, when we compare this small kindness with the immense labor of our parents, we see a vast difference. Parents do not just give us a cassava root when we are hungry; they devote their entire lives to nurturing us. From the time we lay in the cradle, being held, breastfed, running errands for clothes, pants, rice, porridge, medicine, and coal to keep us warm in winter... For decades, parents have made silent sacrifices, surpassing any kindness strangers could offer. Except for the grace of the Buddha, who gives us the path to enlightenment, the debt of gratitude to our parents is always first.

Yet, in the hustle and bustle of modern life, we often forget this fundamental truth. Imagine it is late at night, eleven o'clock, and the phone rings. Your sister’s crying voice comes through the line: "Brother! Mother has suddenly fallen seriously ill, please come home immediately!"

Instantly, your heart tightens. You jump on your vehicle and speed through the pitch-black night, racing straight home to visit your mother. Your mind focuses only on her pained face and your extreme worry. You remember your mother’s kindness and love her boundlessly. But there is one thing you completely overlook: Who built this road? Who planned, supervised, and constructed it so you could drive safely in the dark and rush your mother to the hospital?

It is the local and national leaders who work silently to make this possible. They are the ones who sleep poorly at night, worrying about economic development plans, finishing road paving, and ensuring public order and security. They care for an entire community, not just our small families. Without the transportation system, healthcare infrastructure, and social stability created by these leaders, could you have reached your mother in time? Would she have received emergency care when needed?

We often remember only close, personal favors while forgetting the invisible yet essential "air" of society. As Confucius placed the debt of gratitude to the ruler (the leader) above others, not out of flattery, but out of rational calculation: Leaders care for millions of people, while parents care for only a few children. Both are great, but without a stable social foundation, family happiness would waver.

Therefore, Vu Lan Day is not just an occasion to remember our parents' kindness, but also a chance to reflect on the entire network of gratitude in our lives. From the cassava root that saved us from hunger, to the labor of giving birth and raising us, and even the silent contributions of those who maintain peace for the nation. Only by being grateful to all can we truly understand the depth of human ethics.

### The Meaning of the Story

This story contrasts gratitude for a small favor (a cassava root) with the immense labor of parents, alongside the forgotten role of societal leaders. The lesson is clear: Filial piety toward parents is the most important ethical foundation; if one does not appreciate their parents, all other relationships are false. At the same time, we must expand our gratitude to leaders who create safe and favorable living environments, allowing us to fulfill our responsibilities to our families. Gratitude means seeing the invisible yet essential aspects of life, leading us to live with integrity, loyalty, and deep humanity.

Compiled from the dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang